during certain times my
hebephrenic mind takes off on tangents and visits places i've never used for decades. the consideration of figuring i've been here before and will be here again begs verification from some
higher source. until the sixth century the church believed in resurrection/renewed life and even spoke to the reappearance of john the baptist/elijah, whatever that means. then the roman emperor justinian issued an edict that you couldn't think that way. i know that i'm not given to sacred thoughts much but getting older makes one think about what comes next... are we really able to think independently or must we lockstep everything with political winds?
The Thirteen and a Half Lives of Captain Bluebear is a 1999
fantasy novel by german writer and cartoonist
walter moers, which details the numerous lives of a human-sized bear with blue fur. many of the creatures encountered by bluebear in the novel are taken from myths, folktales, prehistory, and moers' imagination, among them
gryphons, maenads, trolls, yetis, and pterodactyls. nearing the end of the novel, the mythical city of
Atlantis disappears from earth, an event witnessed by bluebear. the book follows the adventures of the character bluebear in the first half of his
27 lives. the novel intersperses bluebear’s narrative with excerpts from
The Encyclopedia of Marvels,
Life Forms and Other Phenomena of Zamonia and its Environs by Professor Abdullah Nightingale, who bacterially transmits it into bluebears brain.
how very much moers was like irish author c.s. "jack" lewis, who was first influenced by j.r.r. tolkien and g.k. chesterton, who went from atheism to the church of england; and in "narnia" assigned qualities to animals. lewis drew much of his early work from the icelandic sagas. lewis died on the same day as aldous huxley and jack kennedy (just a sidelight). there is so much to think about before we get it right. i keep turning corners and finding threads that connect everything.
i know i've not made the best of what i've been given to date, but have to guess there may always be tomorrow... unless my fragile mind takes flight without my body...
it's so cold here i couldn't take any pictures, and thought these residents of cold country could impress more than me. in honor of nw taking the time to bring calliope home i've included members of the Adelie family (and the Gentoo tribe) with evidence of the only flying penguin recorded..... pretty impressive if i do say so.. oh, and a cute too!
Donovan, back in the sixties, wrote a song called Season of the Witch. it is appropriate for what i feel today. winter is a tough enough time with holidays without losing friends. this am i picked up the paper and found a friend's picture and obituary listed and added his name to two other classmates from high school that had died in the past week. three friends leaving at the same time.... it makes you stop and think about life more as you grow older, and consider how you can make the best of each day.... to see the beauty in everything and everyone..... and to decide how you can continue to make a difference in this world...... if only answers came easier.... we'll just say a prayer for those remaining and wish these three Godspeed in their next endeavors.
many would say that some animals aren't "cute" but even the pelican's parents would say he is the cutest thing in the world.... of course much cuter than "geese". it's raining on our Christmas parade this week, but it looks like a white Christmas ahead... the tree is up and decorated; the nutcrackers guard the mantel, and the nativity is assembled (complete with the Christmas Lyndon B. Johnson figure). Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...
many cute things are hidden from the "normal" eye, but the watchful observer of nature finds them blending into those inbetween colors. like friend jp i'm finding that being quiet, and listening through the ringing in my ears, can take me further than the empty chatter...
how quickly everything goes from one thing to the next. the tree that had beautiful green leaves and blossoms became a shock of color and then quickly with the winter winds shed its burdens and went to sleep.... see you in the spring lovely thoughts...
even though we are almost snowbound here the wildlife continue to seek sustenance. now there is nothing outwardly "cute" about a bald eagle, with sharp talons and beak, but if you get really close they have a bit of a smirk and will give you the "eagle eye". i wonder if their nests are covered with 14" of snow too.
during certain times my hebephrenic mind takes off on tangents and visits places i've never used for decades. the consideration of figuring i've been here before and will be here again begs verification from some higher source. until the sixth century the church believed in resurrection/renewed life and even spoke to the reappearance of john the baptist/elijah, whatever that means. then the roman emperor justinian issued an edict that you couldn't think that way. i know that i'm not given to sacred thoughts much but getting older makes one think about what comes next... are we really able to think independently or must we lockstep everything with political winds?
what's cuter than babies at Christmas? even when they grow up and move away they are still our babies. all we have to do is close our eyes and those we love are there, but with whom will we share the chocolate chip batter? missing those not with us this year...
